


Married to the Mafia (Or, The Ballad of a Detective who Protests too Much)

by Beware_The_Tristero



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Phil Coulson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, BAMF Clint Barton, BAMF Edwin Jarvis, BAMF Loki, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Tony Stark, Biting, Blood, Bottoming from the Top, Bucky Barnes Family, Bucky Barnes is not amused, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Deadpool being Deadpool, Detective Bucky Barnes, Drama & Romance, Happy Ending, Knotting, Light Bondage, M/M, Mafia AU, Mafia Don Tony Carbonell, Mating, Minor Character Death, Murder, Omega Clint Barton, Omega Loki, Omega Tony Stark, Self-Lubrication, Some mentions of violence, Steve Rogers is not amused, Tiberius Stone - Freeform, Tony Rules the New York Underground, Violence, black-mail, nypd, smut later, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:06:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7238485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beware_The_Tristero/pseuds/Beware_The_Tristero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own the characters used in this non-profit piece of fanfiction. I am merely using their likenesses/settings for my own enjoyment (and hopefully the enjoyment of others).</p><p>Once upon a time, James Buchannan Barnes thought he had it made; he was making a name for himself as one of the NYPD's finest detectives, had a wonderful group of friends and had met an omega whose beauty, brains and charisma had him wondering just how in the hell he'd become so lucky.</p><p>However...</p><p>After one, fateful night (a marriage proposal fluttering on his lips) Bucky finds out that Tony Stark is <i>actually</i> Anthony Carbonell, a Don as devious as a snake and twice as venomous.</p><p>Heart-broken, the alpha tears himself away and buries himself in his work.</p><p>It's a shame that New York's infamous <b>Iron Man</b> isn't ready, willing or able to let him go...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Owing Favours...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Potrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/gifts).



> For Potrix!
> 
> Thanks so much for all the great WinterIron stuff you do! 
> 
> I hope that you enjoy this fic; sadly, I can't promise regular updates BUT I loved the idea too much that not writing it was impossible!

“Detective James Buchannan Barnes...”

Growling around the rough gag that’d been so unceremoniously crammed into his mouth, Bucky tried to glare through the blindfold, his head leaning towards the voice which casually circled him as he continued to struggle and pull at the bindings which secured him to an old, sturdy oaken-chair.

“So... you proudly serve our Country for seven years from the tender age of eighteen, rising up the ranks to _Sergeant_ no less, then, having lost an arm, you’re sent on your way with a few shiny medals before getting snapped up by the NYPD and now? Here you are... trussed up like a turkey and sweating like a pig in a slaughter house... Heh, you see what I did there?” the speaker laughed, the other man’s hands rattling several low hanging chains; chains that Bucky _knew_ were once used to hang animal carcases ready for butchering.

“It’s all so _terribly_ tragic, isn’t it?”

Snarling when long, leather coated fingers brushed against his exposed neck (his shirt-collar was gaping and polka-dotted with blood, the top few buttons long since lost), Bucky reared back and ground out as many curses as he could around the foul tasting fabric swamping his mouth.

“Ooh? Would you listen to all those ugly things spilling out of that pretty mouth?”

“You’re a piece of work, Rumlow” another speaker suddenly intoned, his voice deeper, older and clearly unimpressed. “You’re the only alpha I know who get’s turned on by his own gender” he added before spitting, the sound of the liquid smattering against the dusty floor ringing out within the otherwise silent, abandoned abattoir. 

“Oh yeah? Well maybe you don’t know what you’re missing... Femmes and ‘Megas are too soft and pliant for my liking...”

“Fucking sadist...”

“I prefer masochist...”

“And _I’d_ prefer it if you’d both shut your traps and move the fuck away from my Boss’ property.”

Stiffening at the new voice, the omega’s foot-falls so feather light that he’d taken everyone by surprise, Bucky allowed his head to fall forward in an air of hopeless resignation; there was only one _Boss_ that Hawkeye reported to and ending up back in _his_ clutches was something he’d been dreading and desperately trying to avoid.

“Well, well, well... if it isn’t the _Iron Man’s_ head executioner” the first speaker, _Rumlow_ , hailed casually, his hand returning to Bucky’s neck, those fingers pressing in more firmly. “I didn’t realise we were dealing with _him_... this kind’of _asset_ isn’t what he usually goes for, after all...” he continued, his thumb pressing into Bucky’s rapidly beating pulse-point. “Wow Jimmy, whatever did you do to piss a guy like 'im of, huh? Must have been a doosey... so, you here to take him out Hawkeye? Cus, if you’re just gonna kill him, I’d happily take care of it after, you know, having a little _fun_...” 

“ _Yeah_... that won’t be necessary” the blonde retorted, his tone a cool mixture of bored annoyance. “All my Boss wants is for you to spread the word that this guy is off limits to _everyone_ on your side of the river or they’ll be answering to him personally, alright?”

Blinking rapidly, his teeth grinding into the gag, Bucky snarled out again against the unknown speaker’s snort and Rumlow’s startled bark of laughter. 

“What? Hah! You gotta be shitting me here, Barton... since when does the head of the Carbonell Family issue protection orders for no-account grunts like ‘im?”

“And since when do you question your superiors? You may be a free-lancer Rumlow, but don’t forget who lets you have your way on the upper-east side” the archer returned grimly; Bucky could almost hear the cold, predatory smirk spreading across the fiery assassin’s mouth. “It’s bad enough that you went and roughed-up our good friend here (“What did you expect? He saw us waste one of King Pin’s informants...”) **since** he’s ranked third on the ‘do-not-kill-list’ _without_ hurling your ass any further into the fire... Now get out of here and tell your Hydra Buddies to keep away from Manhattan for a while unless they want Shield all up in their business.”

“Oh? Since when were Shield bothering with New York?”

“Since you guys scared the CIA shitless with that last stunt you pulled on the sub-way; thanks for that, by the way, having Nick Fury skulking around is going to be _real great_ for business” the omega huffed as he casually sauntered up to and placed his own hand on Bucky’s free shoulder. “Now go on and fuck off before I tell Castle it’s bastard-hunting season” he added, his shrug reverberating through the older alpha’s shoulder as he drummed his fingers.

“Ugh, fine... having to deal with you is bad enough without having the Punisher get involved” the still nameless asshole Bucky’d punched square in the jaw only hours earlier muttered, the larger, heavier hand on his shoulder giving one more firm, hard squeeze before drifting away with the plodding footfalls of its owner. 

“Feh... _you_ are starting to become more trouble than you’re worth, Bucky-boy” Clint huffed, his tone tinged with playfulness as he unceremoniously tore the duct-tape from across his eyes whilst simultaneously tugging the filthy rag from out of his mouth.

“Ah! You motha-fucker!” the Detective yowled before spitting to the side and struggling not to gag. “Of all tha’ damn people who could’a shown up, it hadda be you, didn’ it?” he snapped, his flesh arm jittering around uselessly against the oaken armrest, the chaffing of the rough-hewn ropes doing little to deter him.

“Wow... talk about ungrateful” the omega sighed plainly as he crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow above the purple-glasses he wore, his grin quirking when the right lens seemed to illuminate before a new voice filled the desolate, dust slathered slaughterhouse.

“Now, now, Bucky-bear... be nicer to Clint or I’ll have to excuse him dragging you home instead of escorting you” the disembodied speaker called, the clarity of the sound proof positive that Carbonell had been the one to craft his right-hand man’s bespoke eye-wear.

“For tha’ las’ time Tony, I’m not ya _Bucky-bear_ and ‘m **not** joinin’ ya... not fa dinner, not fa a _chat_ and not for a ‘ _good time_ ’... So, thanks fa savin’ me an all, but I...”

“Ah, ah, ah... you _just_ admitted that I saved you...”

“Wha-? I...”

“Which _means_ that you owe me one, right?” the caller continued smugly and, as those words filtered through Bucky’s exhausted mind, he felt his jaw hang open before he snapped it shut with an audible click. 

“Gaud-damnit Tony! You’d use dat against me?”

“Hmm... use is such a _strong_ word...” the caller close to purred whilst Clint offered a chuckle and a slow shake of his head.

“And besides... in terms of, uhm, _using_ you... I can think of far better things to _use_ than your words...”


	2. Plans Set In Motion...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have written one... it is here somewhere...
> 
> This is a little short and sweet BUT I wanted to update sooner rather than later!
> 
> Thanks so much for all the kudos guys!

If trying to reason with Clint Barton was difficult, then attempting to argue with Frank Castle was _completely_ impossible.

“I _can_ walk, ya know...” he tried to reason from his position upon the chair he’d been originally strapped to, its structure now being supported on an aluminium sack truck of which the Punisher expertly manoeuvred through the crumbling innards of the abattoir.

“Keep up this chatter and maybe you _won’t_ be able to for much longer” the older, ebony haired alpha grumbled from around the diminishing cigarette that was comfortably perched between his lips.

“Now, now, none of that” Hawkeye chirped, his nimble form easily parting dust clotted doors and faded plastic sheeting from their path, his deceptively delicate looking right hand slamming into the final door with a power many wouldn’t have associated with an omega. “Come on, boys, playing nice isn’t so hard, is it?” he cooed whilst sashaying his way to the classically non-descript black van that haunted the back-drop of Bucky’s worst fears... and (if he were completely honest with himself) secret desires.

“You do realise dat you’re kidnappin’ a fed’ral agent, right?” Bucky countered grimly, his sharp, azure eyes assessing the dingy side-alley for any means of attracting attention. “Dis ain’t some prank Tony can just shrug off when ‘e lets me go...”

“Hah! Let you go? Oh Bucky, you loveable idiot... Weren’t you listening to a single thing the Boss said?” Clint chuckled whilst seamlessly opening the back-doors before side-stepping out of the way so that the taller, bulkier man could enter and prepare to load their _cargo_.

“Dat ain’t funny, Clint...”

“It isn’t meant to be, Jimmy-boy” the blonde countered with a smirk, the dawning look of horror crossing the alpha’s face causing him to chuckle, especially when it morphed into a startled yelp as Frank unceremoniously hauled his chair off the truck and dragged him into the shadowy depths of the van. “But don’t you go worrying that shaggy little head of yours because Rhodes’ has gone to square things away with Rogers... I think the story goes something along the lines of, ah, what was it again?” he pretended to remember whilst hopping in and closing the doors with a slam.

“ **Clint**! Y’a _not_ serious! You...”

“Oh yeah, so... you were tracking that guy, you know? That informant you saw disembowelled a few hours ago? Well, thing is it didn’t go down _quite_ like that... see, you got caught snooping around in things you shouldn’t and, ahh... how can I put this delicately?”

“Fuck you Clint! Steve won’ believe a _fucking_ word of it! You assholes! _You_...” Bucky snarled, his limbs jerking and trembling within the various ropes and duct-tape which secured him to the chair, his violent jarring only bringing him a smack across the back of his head courtesy of a disgruntled Punisher. “Ahh! Fuck you Frank! ‘M not lettin’ ya get away wit’ dis!”

Sighing dramatically, his keen gaze watching as his older associate swiftly and efficiently secured the bound Detective into the safety harness they’d managed to rig out of various safety-belts, the young omega shrugged and raised his hands in exasperation.

“Sorry bud, but it’s all been decided” he said as, with one final tug of a strap, Frank grunted, stood and launched himself over seats to land effortlessly behind the steering wheel, his hands rapidly preparing the vehicle for departure as Clint perched himself upon the carpet-covered wheel-hub. “When we get home those clothes of yours are gonna be stripped off you, we’ll take a litre or two or blood, mix it all together in the river and _bam_ , one dead Detective and the full wrath of Steve Rogers flying directly at Wilson Fisk” he declared, his smile softening slightly. 

“All in all, not a bad day’s work for someone who’s going to be mated to one of the most powerful men in the world within a week, huh? You should be real proud that your swapping of a life filled with flat-footing for one of luxury and a love-nest will result in one of the biggest crooks of our time going down... Hell, there’ll probably be commendations and medals galore for Steve and Sam too” he added with a nod as the van roared to life and began speeding away. 

“Not a bad day’s work at all...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: the fateful reunion of the Mafia Don and his soon to be Alpha mate ; )


	3. The Reunion...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... I’ve been AWOL for a while, huh? Long story short: glandular fever+promotion = fatigue and sluggish writing abilities...
> 
> But enough with excuses because, de-de-de-da!

“ _Tony!_ ”

“Yes, my puddin’ cup?”

“Aw no, don’ you _puddin’ cup_ me, asshole!” the alpha snarled. “Now stahp messin’ around an’ tell me jus’ what in the hell is goin’ on!”

Sighing, his lithe, sun-kissed body descending the shadowy stairs like a God traversing from heaven to the hellish darkness Bucky had been confined to whilst he’d all but screamed himself hoarse, Tony Stark... no, _Anthony Carbonell_ casually removed his obsidian glossed tie and popped open a button on his crimson silk shirt.

The Detective swallowed audibly, his hind-brain begging him to lick that enticingly exposed neck... amongst other things...

Shit, the omega still knew _just_ what to do in terms of making him both teeth-gratingly angry and agonisingly sexually flustered all at the same time. God, and the way he looked in that shirt, his _favourite_ no less or, at least an exact duplicate of the one he’d torn off of that sinfully toned body when they were...

“ _No_! You stahp dat! D’ya hear me? No sexy strip-tease, Tony! Just g’me some gawd-damned answers, alright? What haf you done ta Steve? What’s all dis nonsense ‘bout me kickin’ the bucket, huh? Clint said...”

“Oh... the little birdy has been telling tales to you, has he?” the omega drawled, his golden eyes narrowed in the cold, calculating efficiency anyone would accredit to a master-criminal. “Hmm... looks like I’ll have to double his salary again, doesn’t it?” he asked conversationally before slinking his way across the short distance from the last step to Bucky’s desolate chair, his smirk sharpening as he opened his arms and gestured to himself.

“This is how you see me now, yes? The ruthless Don who’d think nothing of kidnapping, of _killing_ to satisfy his own selfish ambition? The omega who would be King, the one who bathes in the blood of alphas to quench his carnal lust for revenge? Obadiah’s _boy_? The ‘Butcher of Hell’s Kitchen’? The bastard legacy of the once _great_ Carbonell family? That’s me, right?”

“What? Tony... _Jesus_! Will ya quit wit the riddles already?!”

His supple lips levelling into a thin line, the slightly younger of the two widened the span of his arms: “James... I’ll offer you no tricks, no lies and every question you want answered if you just answer this one question of mine” he stated calmly, his tone eerily neutral.

“Is _this_ how you see me?”

Scowling, his tired eyes screwing shut whilst the usually seamlessly functioning cogs of his brain struggled to turn, Bucky sagged against his restraints as a not entirely unexpected tidal wave of emotion flooded him and had his gaze fall on the man he was _still_ so hopelessly in love with.

“No Tony” he breathed, his sluggish words laced thickly with exhaustion and strain. “Dat’s not the man I know... dat’s not the man I wanted to mate and spen’ my life wit” he added as they regarded each other through the beam of light glibly trickling from a doorway seemingly so far above them.

“Dat’s not you... an’ I won’... no, I **can’t** believe dat’s who you are... an’ yet... here we are, here _I_ am... all trusse’d up like’a Christmas turkey ready for the chop” he sighed.

“It doesn’t have to be that way...”

Blinking, Bucky jerked in his chair, a spike of anger lancing through the mire of his heart-break and fatigue: “oh gawd, not dis again, I’m so sick of dese damned games...”

“When will you stop and use your fuckin’ head, Barnes?! I’m _not_ playing here! If I were to suddenly disappear this City would go to the dogs! The repercussions would ripple around the world! I can’t just...”

“And why the hell not?!” the detective spat through a snarl. “You tellin’ me, _again_ , dat the amazing Anthony Carbonell is too almight’y to jus’ quit an’ leave all dis behin’? Jesus Tony! We _had_ dis talk, we both _lost_ dis fight! I’m a cop, through-an-through! Gang violence killed my _mother_ Tony!”

“It killed mine too!” the omega cut in, his shorter form striding to invade Bucky’s personal space. “Can’t you see how much better I’ve made things? _Bucky_... I try so _fucking_ hard to keep the hard-line drugs away from kids, to make sure femmes, omegas and the elderly can walk the streets at any time of the day or night... Can you _honestly_ say that things are as bad in this place as they were when we were kids? That I haven’t made a difference, a _positive_ difference as the Iron Man?”

“The _Iron Man_ is a fancy-suit, a mob-boss an’ a killer... your lil gang of _Avengers_ are vigilantes at best an’ murderin’ psychos at worst” the alpha returned, his expression dark. “How ya’ choose to see it don’ change things...”

“Then why not _help_ me to change things?”

“... an’ you... wait... **what**?!”

“You said it yourself” Tony stated whilst leaning in, his face now level with the only alpha he’d ever allowed to touch him in every way that counted. “I need a moral compass, someone to help me correct my mistakes, to help me become a man worthy of this City... worthy of being your mate...”

“Tony...”

“ _Bucky..._?”

“Doll... we’ve been through dis... an’ no, before ya tink o’throwin’ that ol’argument back in my face, it’s _not_ bout the red in your ledga... lawd knows my rec’od ain’t ‘xactly clean... an’ it ain’t ‘bout Stevie neither... not that he’d be _happy_ to know who ya really are or what we’re talkin’ ‘bout right now...” he reasoned, his eyes pleading.

“Then what is it? What is the barrier that’s keeping us apart? Whatever it is I _will_ find away to smash through it...”

“Please don’ get Bruce in on dis...”

“Bucky, you ass, I’m being serious! Why don’ t you understand that? This past six months without you has been fucking unbearable...” the omega snapped.

“Please... just tell me what I have to do to win you back... I’ll...”

“Ya already know what I want...”

“Come off it Bucky” Tony snapped, his tone turning waspish as he threw his hands up in the air to thoroughly display his mounting exasperation. “You’d be as unhappy living in a quiet little suburb with a white-picket fence, two kids and a dog as I would be! That isn’t who we are...”

“Don’ mean we couldn’ try it jus’ ta make sure” the alpha sighed before a very pointed look from the omega had him grunting out a: “ _fine_... but not even _you_ would wan’ our kids livin’ in this madness, right?”

“Oh? Thinking about our kids huh? I knew you were still running hot for me” Tony chuckled in a bid to lighten the mood, his lips quirking into a full smile when his quarry barked out a short laugh. “So... what do you say, Bucky? I can’t promise perfect _but_ I can promise to try and together, who knows? Maybe we can get this City to a state where we can go to Tupper-ware or Delaware or wherever the hell you go to be married, mated and boring, hmm?”

Locking eyes with the younger man, Bucky felt himself deflating with defeat: “how can a guy say no to _dat_?”


	4. "It's a date..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have written one! Honest : )
> 
> Sorry for the urber late delay, guys!

“So, you’ve fallen to the dark-side already, Mr Barnes? Hn, didn’t take you long...”

“S’not like dat an’ you know it, Mista Laufeyson” the Brooklyn detective, although he should really stop referring to himself as such if he was truly set on his current course; Gawd... Steve would _kill_ him if he ever found out...

 _When_ he found out...

Shit...

“Oh? Do I now?” the ebony haired omega purred, his viridian eyes keenly watching through the rear-view mirror as the alpha continued to look listlessly out of the luxury car’s passenger window. 

“Yeah, ya do” was the gruff, huffed out reply. “Tony’s gotta certin way wit words now, don’ ‘e?” he added, his cobalt eyes flashing to meet the younger man’s gaze momentarily: “you can’ tell me you jus’ sign’d ya life over to ‘im on a whim, can you?”

Chuckling, his leather glove covered hands turning the cushioned, Carbonell family engraved steering wheel with ease, the alabaster skinned male eased off the accelerator and gently applied the brake as they waited for the angry, rain-soaked red of the traffic light to give way to the amber and green which would follow.

“I’ll admit that Anthony does have an almost supernatural ability when it comes to garnering allies” he mused through a hum that followed the soft jazz playing from the car’s onboard entertainment centre. “However, I wouldn’t say that I have _signed my life over_ to him, as you so eloquently put it” he close to purred, a flicker of fondness crossing his features: “Anthony saved me from a life worse than any hell an _alpha_ could imagine” he breathed. Then, his lips curling into a deadly looking smile, he added: “you’d do well to remember that should you ever dream of hurting him again...”

“An’ you don’ think dat _I_ was hurt?” the brunette snapped as the car resumed its trek. “I was in love wit the guy! Still am, an’ he spen’ dat year an a half lyin ta me, to my face!” he growled before, taking a deep breath, his resolve steadying, the alpha relaxed into the backseat more fully.

“Look, I know _why_ he did it... an’ I don’ think either of us ever thought we’d get dis far...” he murmured, his tone more gentle. “Even aft’a learnin’ the truth I... I can’ help it, he’s my fella, you know?” he continued, a giddy little thrill of admitting the fact out loud having him grinning at his rain-spattered reflection. 

“Oh, but he’s sunk those kitten-claws of his deeply into your throat now, hasn’t he?” the raven haired omega offered, his tone and grin more playful than his words would suggest. 

“So deeply dat ‘m givin’ up a job I love an’ frien’s who’re like family; yeah, I guess you could say dat’s pretty deep...”

“You do know that it’s not Anthony’s intention to completely uproot you from...”

“Come off it Loki... all my frien’s are cops an’ I’m plannin’ on matin’ an helpin’ a guy who the majority of dem would give dere righ’ arm to put away” he snorted. “So ya takin’ me home, I’m callin’ Steve, tellin’ him I’m all roughed up an’ he’ll come runnin’ over, I’ll say dat I can’ do this no more, hand in my notice and have a big ol’ pardy wit the guys before retirin’ early to run one’a Tony’s inta-city dojos ta help femmes an’ kids defend ‘emselves” he reasoned.

“S’all quite swell when ya think abou’ it...”

“Does Anthony know that you’re this unhappy?”

“Unhappy is a pretty stron’ word dere, Tex” the alpha half-chuckled. “Tony’s’worth it” he admitted, that same, wistful look crossing his features: “sure, it ain’ no fairy-tale, but whose life is?”

“And the whole _crime-syndicate_ thing?”

“Tony’s promised me dat he’s gonna start edgin’ all o’ you out of it” he said, his eyes narrowing as his apartment block came into view as the car rounded a corner and slowly paced down the quieter road. 

“Hmm? Oh yes, I should imagine we will have a plethora of career opportunities... perhaps we’ll become a travelling circus? Or maybe we’ll start selling our daggers door to door under the guise of them being chef’s ware” the slightly taller man drawled, his tone amused as he pulled up to the curve.

“Cirus act seems fine ta me” the alpha admitted, his own grin softening. “S’long as Tony’s happy, an’ I know he wouldn’ be happy without his inna-circle” he added whilst the car came to a gentle halt. 

“Likewise, I’m sure” was the chauffer’s reply as he turned in his seat to view his passenger more clearly.

“I’ll return in a week to collect you and your lowly, _meagre_ belongings, then? You will at least allow Anthony and I to take you shopping after you’ve settled into the mansion, won’t you?”

“It’s a date.”


	5. Of Making Deals with Devils...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: umm... I think it's on chapter one, or somewhere around there : )
> 
> Warning: Tiberius Stone.

Watching the flashy car (Tony could probably spell _subtle_ in all ten of the languages he spoke; however, that didn’t mean he knew the definition of it) pull away, Bucky allowed himself to relax, his shoulders sagging beneath the weight of his wool-coat (that cost more than three weeks rent and tailored to his form) as though the world had been placed there.

What the fuck was he getting himself into? Why had he gone back on his word and _relented_ in terms of keeping away from Tony, his crew and the Mafioso in general?

“Why do fools fall in love?” he found himself singing as he trudged up the short stoop, his bruise-bandaged fingers instinctively reaching for and fishing out his keys from the slacks he wore, his lips now whistling the tune whilst Diana Ross continued to croon in his mind.

What he was doing was dangerous, dangerous and _stupid_ ; what guarantee did he have that Tony was being honest? How could he trust the man after he’d hurt him so badly?

Why couldn’t he get that damned man, his beautiful eyes, breath-taking smile, captivating wit and _ridiculously_ flexible body out of his mind?

Was he _really_ going to mate and knot with someone who could just spirit him away at a moment’s notice so that he could continue a criminal life-style unabated? Jesus, could he really raise kids in an environment like that?

Could he trust that Tony Stark would be enough to subdue Anthony Carbonell?

Sighing tiredly as he passed the apartment-block’s first barrier, he slowly made his way to the graffiti tattooed stairway and jogged the short journey to the second floor with relative ease, his senses slowly growing accustomed to Mrs Lewis’ boys playing pirate games, old Ira coughing through his tobacco smoke and...

Stopping on the final step, his keen eyes analysing the corridor as it spread out before him, Bucky sniffed once, twice and then, with a sudden burst of anger, found himself storming towards his apartment’s door; someone had made their way inside his home without permission, and that someone smelt like expensive, obnoxious cologne.

That _someone_ was Tiberius Stone. 

“Detective Barnes, how good to see you; are you keeping well?”

Snarling, the door slamming shut behind him, the brunette alpha stormed across the few metres separating him from the blonde who sat comfortably (too _fucking_ comfortably) in _his_ Laz-E-Boy recliner with a murderous intent so strong he was surprised it wasn’t radiating from him in waves. 

“Wat the fuck are ya doin’ ‘ere Stone?!” he hissed, his foot-falls stilling when the businessman swivelled to look at him, the small pistol resting in his lap sending out a clear message that _subtly_ would be needed on his part, too. 

“Why, merely checking up on a rumour I heard concerning yourself and a certain, ahh, shared acquaintance of ours, let’s say...” the lightly tanned alpha mused thoughtfully, his expression almost as imperious as his tone.

“If ya kno’ wat’s good for ya, ya’ll leave Tony owtta dis” the slighter young man ground out; “how many times ‘as he gotta tell ya dat he ain’t interested in ya before ya get da message, ha? Isn’ it a’bout time dat ya moved on?”

“Hn, the same could be said of _you_ now, couldn’t it?” the taller male asked, his sharp gaze locking with Bucky’s as a hint of venom spiked his tone; “you meeting Tony that night _ruined_ everything, you know” he breathed, his mouth flashing an unkind smile with a bark of ironic laughter. “Our families coming together would have revolutionised the running of this County, Barnes... the things we could have done would have, ah, but you don’t care about such things, I’m sure...” he continued, a wistful note sneaking in between the disappointment.

“Killin’ me won’t change anythin’.”

“Oh, I am quite aware that your position with Anthony makes your offing more trouble than you’re _worth_ ” the mafia-boss confirmed, his shoulders shrugging. “This is merely for my protection, you understand; it was difficult enough sneaking in here with his Black Widow guarding the place and so my entourage has had to remain outside...” he mused, his right hand giving the pistol a little wave before resettling it back in his lap.

“You ain’t done nothin’ to her, you...”

“Oh no, no, no... Miss Romanov is quite well, I assure you... She’s merely, _preoccupied_ with other matters at present” he promised through a weary sigh. 

“So, ya not ‘ere ta kill me” the Officer stated, his right brow arching in question; “den wat _do_ ya want?”

“I’m here to make you an offer...”

“Hah! Yer gonna ‘av ta get in-line, pal” was the sneered response, his arms gesturing to his fancy coat and bandaged hands.

Huffing indignantly, his body rising to stand like an uncoiling cobra, Tiberius snorted: “be that as it may, I still come with a deal that I’m **certain** you’ll be more than willing to accept” he promised before his left hand ventured into the inside of his exquisitely cut, suit-jacket. 

“If dat’s a sum o’ money, le’me stahp you righ’ there...”

“Hmm? Oh, my dear detective, I’ve not dealt in anything as paltry as money since Anthony and I were rabble-rousing our way through MIT” he said derisively whilst revealing an ivory envelope and proffering it towards the warily glaring alpha.

“Wat is it?”

“Why don’t you take it and find out, detective” the blonde insisted, his lips quirking into a grin. “I’m sure that your sister will be simply _thrilled_ that you did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... a lot of folks are asking about Bucky's dialect/accent.
> 
> Well, I am _attempting_ to write him with a broad, Brooklyn dialect as, in this AU, I'm picturing him staying in New York and so I wanted him to _sound_ like it.
> 
> And so, in that spirit, if I'm doing an appalling job then I'd like to apologise to the awesome folks of Brooklyn; admittedly, I'm using Leonardo DiCaprio's "Teddy" character from Shutter Island as my inspiration...  
> ...  
> ...  
> ...
> 
> Sorry if it's awful ;_;


	6. The Cleaning and Creating of Messes...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see chapter 1 (I think...)
> 
> Okay, so, my little dabble with using _dialect/accent/idiolect_ hasn’t gone down as well as I’d hoped; therefore, upon request, Bucky’s dialogue will be closer to standard-English.
> 
> This will come into effect from next chapter onwards : )
> 
> **WARNING: DARK!TONY, blood, dead-bodies; you DO NOT mess with Tony or his people guys!**

Humming to himself, the notes a cheerful tune of something he’d picked up somewhere or other, Tiberius Stone all but skipped his way down the dingy stoop of the demure building he’d been forced the languish inside of, his regal face sneering as he looked back at it whilst his limo pulled up to the curb. 

Now that Barnes knew the score, all he had to do was wait for the slightly younger alpha to pack up his _meagre_ possessions and use the plane tickets to have a grand’ol family reunion (courtesy of Stone Inc.) before settling down to a quiet career as a regular Cop out there in the sticks. Then, with the troublesome gum-shoe safely tucked away, all he need do was sit back, relax, allow Anthony some time to regain his senses and, by this time next year, he’d be the head of a mafia empire that’d make Capone’s legacy look like a joke.

“Good afternoon, Mr Stone.”

Blinking, an unfamiliar voice greeting him, Tiberius refocused his wandering attention upon a tall, porcelain skinned beta whose refined features were pulled into a look of formal indifference; however, one look into those glacial eyes and a quick glance at the immaculate butler’s garb and the blonde knew _exactly_ who he was dealing with.

“Edwin Jarvis...”

“Please make your way inside of the vehicle, Mr Stone” was the politely neutral response, the man’s handsome features giving nothing away as he beckoned towards the open door... and the peculiar odour snaking out from inside of the extended cabin.

“What are you doing here? Where are my... **whoa**!”

Yelping indignantly, his face and chest surfing across the wet carpeting of his limousine’s floor, the mafia Don coughed and spluttered against the tide of fresh blood that soaked him as he struggled to right himself and sit up; behind him, the car—door slammed shut with an ominous thud before the engine purred to life.

“Hey Ty.”

‘ _Shit_ ’ the alpha thought, his wild eyes struggling to see in the dim cab whilst his bloody hands swiped to clear his view.

“Anthony? What the fuck... where are my... _holy shit! My **men**_!!” he howled, his stomach churning as the pile of bodies between him and the far seats where the other mafia Head sat finally focused into the view; all five of them were slumped atop each other, lifeless, still bleeding, their eyes and mouths curved open in shock.

“Ty, Ty, Ty... when will you learn?” the omega sighed from his perch at the front of the limo, his slender frame sat comfortably upon the plush, leather-coated bench, the blood-choked fingers of his right hand casually swirling a tumbler of whisky as the vehicle began its journey. 

“Dear God, you... what have you...”

“Oh, come on Ty, I’m not known as the _Butcher_ for nothing... although, I must admit that I prefer the latest name that the media have come up with... hmm, who do you think first coined the name _Iron Man_ for me at the old Bugle? I’m certain that Jonah, that ancient wind-bag, couldn’t have come up with something so clever or something _so_ tied into my family’s chequered past” he mused pleasantly whilst the alpha wretched.

“Jesus Anthony, this is... I can’t believe that you...”

“Well, you wanted to send a message to me through _my mate_ and so, in exchange, I thought that I’d return the favour” the omega stated, his tone slathered with mock innocence; “you didn’t really think that I’d left my Bucky-bear to his own devices after our little tiff, now, did you?”

Swallowing around the bile rising in his throat, Tiberius shakily dragged himself up and onto the back-bench of the limo, his narrowed gaze fixed on Tony’s red-plastered shirt, suit-jacket and coolly smirking face, the flecks of crimson splashed near his golden eyes making for a surreally beautiful contrast. 

“He’s no good for you Anthony, this relationship that you think you have...”

“Oh, _spare_ me” the omega breathed; “and the one that _we_ had was a better choice? All you’ve ever wanted is to subdue me and to take my hard-earned territory, money and influence for yourself” he sighed before taking another sip of his drink. “Umm, this is good... what is it? Sixteen, eighteen years old?” he asked casually as the limo rocked a lightly when they turned a corner; “I must admit that I’ll miss your liquor cabinet if nothing else” he mused with a shrug. 

“What? You... don’t be _stupid_ Anthony, you _can’t_ kill me, my family is almost as powerful and influential as...”

“Yeah, but you see, the word _almost_ holds a lot more weight than you think it does” the omega stated with a casual shrug before draining his glass. “I’ve spoken to Hammer and, although we’ve had our differences, he’s on board... so is Amora and Doom certainly didn’t turn down the chance to seize your business when I offered it him... oh? You didn’t know? Well, I bought you out the second I learned that you and your _boys_ here were on your way to pay my man a visit” he said, his smirk razor sharp. “Turns out that your investors, stock-holders and Board of Directors thought that having me and Pepper at the helm of their businesses and investments was a _far_ better option than staying loyal to you” he added with a chuckle.

“You... you’re joking... Anthony... you can’t... you _couldn’t_...”

“But didn’t I warn you when you tried this shit beforehand? Didn’t I _say_ that you’d be sorry?” he asked, his right brow quirking. “And yet, here we are... or, rather, here I _am_ after I _promised_ my mate that I was going to give up this life-style and _you_ have made me break that promise... that makes me, well, all kinds of mad to be perfectly honest” he ground out through a gritty chuckle. “Now, how am I going to make sure that you never cause me, my friends or future family any further trouble, hmm?”

“Anthony... please... you...”

“Uhh, I do hope that you’ve got your wallet on you, Ty, because cleaning up your mess is going to rack up one hell of a dry-cleaning bill...”


	7. One Damn, Long Day...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: it's out there, true believers!
> 
> : 3

Taking the beer he’d been offered, his troubled blue eyes meeting the steady, green-ish hue of infamous Black Widow, Bucky only allowed himself to settle more deeply into his la-z-boy recliner when she took a seat opposite him, her graceful form easily folding into the beaten-up couch.

“D’you think I’m stupid?”

Smiling thinly, her calculating gaze locking with his, the femme offered a small shrug; “do _you_ think you’re stupid?”

Snorting, a hefty swig of the bitter ale rushing past his tongue and down his throat, Bucky released the lip of the bottle and expelled a sigh; “can’ you jus give me a straight answer, Nat? I could really use ya advice ‘ere” he pleaded, his tone slaked with exhaustion as he sank further into the well-worn leather of Tony’s first gift to him.

“It’s a matter of perspective, Buck” the slightly younger woman finally stated after taking her own swig. “We’re liars, thieves, assassins and proprietors of one of the world’s largest black-markets... and yet, we only kill when we have to, we only sell to people who’re in need, we only steal when necessary _and_ our lies offer more safety than the truth ever could” she continued thoughtfully, her eyes shifting out of focus.

“Are we bad and the police good? When a paedophile disappears without a trace or a corrupt Government Official has his bank details posted online, are they crimes or victories for social justice?”

“Nat... you can’t keep paintin’ yourselves as the Robin Hoods’ of Manhattan...”

“I’m not trying to” the copper haired beauty cut in, her tone firm; “you want to know if your sense of justice and Tony’s match up, you _want_ to believe that following your heart and loving a man with so much blood on his hands is something your morality can cope with” she continued before taking a long drag of her bottle. “You’re the only one who can make the distinction, Bucky... but you need to understand that, for Tony, you’ve already made this decision... this should be a moot point for you now...”

“An’ it was ‘til that smarmy son ova bitch came callin’” the alpha growled, his hackles rising.

“And I’ve told you to forget about him... Tony will have taken care of everything and your sister’s family will be none the wiser...”

“Until the nex’d time and the nex’d one afta that” he seethed; “Nat, level wit’ me... can Tony really leave all of this behind or is he jus’ sellin’ me what I wan’ta hear?”

“Normally, I’d say you’d be a fool to think otherwise but, for some _crazy_ reason, he thinks that you’re worth _quitting_ this life for, hell, he’s already set up meetings with Doom and Namor... He’s also been googling large properties out in the sticks if his internet-history _is_ his... And really, Buck? Did you expect a quick, easy detach? There will be loose ends, there will be people who won’t want him to go and some who’ll be desperate to swoop in and claim whatever’s left of the _empire_ he’s crafted...” she reasoned, her shoulders straightening as they regarded each other. “You are family, Bucky, and we love you... not even Jarvis can remember a time when Tony was happier during those months you were together and so we’ve all promised to try, even _Frank_ ” she admonished, her lips quirking into a smile.

“You’re not the only one who’d like a fresh start, you know... but before a new chapter in our lives can begin, we’ve got to let the ink dry on the old one” she stated before downing the rest of her beer; “just try your best to hold-out, okay? Treat this incident as a hic-up and know that Tony never goes back on his promises... just do that and we could all be out of the City by the end of the year.”

Swilling his own brew back, the detective, hell, _former_ detective let out a long breath through his nose; “guess ya right” he finally announced, his own faint smile in place. “Now, I don’ mean ta be rude, but would ya mind showin’ yaself out? I have a best-buddy ta let down an’ I’d rather he didn’ see one of Interpol’s most wan’ed curled up on my couch.” 

Smirking playfully, the copper haired assassin leaned forward to appraise her boss’ love-interest; “are you talking about the boy-scout? Hmm... you sure that I can’t stay? If I recall he blushes _very_ easily around attractive women and the last time that I met him he was...”

“Don’ remind me” Bucky cut in, his tone full of mock suffering; “did you and Clint ‘av ta pour yaselves all over the poor guy? He didn’ know where to turn...”

“That was the plan” she offered with a wink whilst rising gracefully to her feet, the heavy-leather biker-boots she wore effortlessly matching the jacket so casually slung across her shoulders; “it was bad enough that we had to crash your date, let alone somehow avoiding giving away _privileged_ information when a guy giving our Don the _shovel talk_ won’t leave the restaurant booth or stop asking questions...”

“Shovel talk? What? Dat’s not what he was doin...”

“Really? From where I was standing your _buddy_ Steve was glowering and growling up quite the protective storm...”

“Oh come on, Nat, he was only teasin’...”

“Sure he was... and my mate doesn’t have an anger-management problem” was the sultry response as she sauntered towards the kitchenette to dispose of her empty bottle. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the mansion?”

“I’ll be there” the alpha replied solemnly, his bottle thoroughly drained.

“See that you are, I wouldn’t like to think that I’d have to...” 

The door to his apartment squealed on its hinges as it tore away from the jamb, its heavy, wooden form splintering whilst it slammed into the oaken floor-boards to reveal the panicked, dishevelled form of one Detective Steven Grant Rogers, the alpha’s eyes wild with worry

“Bucky! Are you in here?! I swear to God if you’re not I’ll...”

‘Oh yeah...’ the brunette thought belatedly as the trio looked about at each other; ‘I’ve been out of radio contact all day... and that Rumlow guy must have left a pretty nasty blood-trail...’

“Bucky! Jesus Christ! Where the hell have you been?!”

‘Well shit...’

“I’s a long story, Stevie...” he said a little numbly; “Nat, why don’ you grab a few more beers, huh?” he continued before sagging back into his chair.

“This’as been one damn, long day...”


	8. To The Future...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: it's somewhere near the front... I think... : 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's a little fluffy-filler...
> 
> Readers of my other fics will probably know what this means...
> 
> Maybe, maybe something drastic will be going down soon, eh?
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me!

“The car has been cleaned and returned to Stone’s estate with its original driver, sir” Jarvis stated as he entered the darkened study that his long-time employer and life-long friend used when he wasn’t inventing or entertaining.

“Thanks J” the younger man replied, his voice tired but, for the first time in months, laced with contentment; “you sure that the kid won’t squeal on us?”

“Not to worry, sir” was the prim reply as he approached the wide-backed chair that the omega was lounging in, his left hand carrying a silver tray complete with cut-glass, whisky filled decanter; “he was too busy trying to chat up one of Logan’s apprentices, a Miss Jubilee if I’m not mistaken, to realise that the limo had been driven away from the diner.” 

Chuckling, his right hand proffering his tumbler for a much needed refill, the omega took a slip whilst gesturing to the chair beside him, the sound of the beta carefully placing the tray down before taking up his offer filling the otherwise silent room as he continued to gaze into the empty, expansive fire-grate. 

“What did you think about the mansion in Long Island?”

“It’s certainly spacious, sir” the older man replied thoughtfully; “Master Bruce will undoubtedly love the gardens, the security system can most certainly be upgraded to his mate’s exacting standards and, if they do include the peacocks in the settlement, it’ll no doubt lead to your pranking of Master Clinton going to a, as you would say, whole new level” he chuckled.

“Heh, that is a perk, isn’t it?”

“What is it that you’d _really_ like to ask me, sir?”

Huffing, another mouthful of amber rolling around his mouth before he replied, Tony slouched a little further; “does what I did to Bucky... is it... is that something _Howard_ would have done? Am I... do you think I’m becoming...”

His words cut off abruptly as a warm, work aged hand covered the one he was grasping his tumbler with.

“You are **not** that man, sir” he promised.

“But what I did... forcing him into doing what I want... I know it’s a little late for regrets but...”

“Mr Barnes isn’t the kind of man who could be coerced, sir” Edwin was quick to sooth; “your methods, although harsh, have been made with everyone’s best interests at heart, even his, and he knows it” he said softly, his handsome, slightly wrinkled face crinkling kindly with a smile. “There is no denying what the both of you felt when you were together... why, your pheromones mixed with his created a sense of pack that many of us wouldn’t have dreamed of finding, let alone having for ourselves” he continued warmly. “I do not doubt that, should he have truly been against the idea, Mr Barnes would have found definite ways of refusing you... he certainly didn’t go through his threat to leave New York altogether once our secret was unveiled now, did he?”

“No, no he didn’t” the omega breathed, his tone peppered with relief; “but are the other’s sure they’re okay with this arrangement? This kind of life is all Nat has ever known... and Loki and Clint, God, they’ve been fighting for just as long as I have... have they said anything to you that, you know, they _won’t_ say to me? Have I just whipped them along with me and they care too much to say no?”

Sighing, the beta plucked the glass from his master’s hand, his grin tilting a touch when the younger man made a displeased huff; “you always become so remorse when drinking the _good stuff_ , sir” he mock chided, his blue eyes locking with amber. “Do you not think that having safety, security and happiness is what all of us have longed for? Why, this opportunity may mean that Mr Coulson can finally rejoin the family and, of course, you and Mr Barnes are not the only ones who desire to start a brood” he stated fondly. “It will be so nice to have little ones scampering around underfoot again” he mused, the pair of them sharing in a gentle laugh; “I hope you know that I intend to spoil each and every one of them quite rotten, sir.”

“I think you’ll have to get in line, J” the brunette chuckled whilst quickly and efficiently snagging his tumbler back. “I already have plans in the works for strollers, robot-nannies, rocket-horses...”

“Rocket-horses?”

“Oh come on, man” the omega gasped; “can you honestly say that you wouldn’t have _loved_ to have a rocket horse to zoom around on when you were little? No droppings to clean up, no feeding to do, no laborious grooming...”

“Imminent death, sir?”

“Imminent death? What? I wouldn’t let them near the thing without making them a safety-suit, first...”

“Ah, and now we return to the fantasy suit of armour you’ve been dreaming of since you were a boy...”

“Don’t you give me that long-suffering sass, J-man, you _know_ I could totally make one if I wanted too! All I need is a power-source and then there’ll be no one to stop me!”

“... making you the first, fully armoured super-villain, sir?”

“Villain? Nah, J, you got it all wrong... I would be a super-hero...”

“Sir?”

“Ugh! Fine... _antihero_ , then” the omega bemoaned, his eyes sparkling with mirth as the butler stood, straightened his suit-jacket and looked down at the omega with the same love a parent would have for their child.

“I’m sure that whatever death-traps you design for the children will be marvellous, sir” he admittedly glibly, his right eyebrow arched wryly before he gestured to the rooms only exit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have dinner to prepare and blood to get out of that Gucci suit your ruined this afternoon” he added, his smirk returning as they regarded each other. “I am certain that I taught you better than to spoil your clothes when _playing_ , sir.” 

“And I’m certain that I taught _you_ better than to criticise the great and powerful _Ironman_ ” the younger grinned, his glass raised in a toast.

“To the future, hey, J?”

“To the future, sir.”

“Indeed” a third voice called out, its presence causing the duo to tilt their heads ceiling-ward, their mouths pulling into pleased smiled when Clint’s head and a tablet displaying the softly smiling face of Coulson greeted them; “it’s good to see you, boss” the alpha continued pleasantly.

“Now what’s this I hear about me finally coming home?”


	9. The Talk...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have written one... have fun looking for it, okay? : )
> 
> This chapter is rated 'A' for Angst (there's also swearing and emotions and stuff... 'cus I just can't let these two boys be happy... Aren't I just the worst? ; 3 )

“Umm, I think you broke him, Buck...”

“You _ain’t_ helpin', Nat” the soon to be _ex-Detective_ sighed out as he continued to watch, his worry growing by the second whilst his best friend continued to pace, to and fro, within the small, beer-bottle peppered kitchenette.

“Should I leave you boys alone, or...”

“Don’t you even think about it” Steve snapped, his brooding features clouded with menace when he looked from the redhead to the brunette; “an international criminal, one of Interpol’s _most wanted_ just... just _hanging out_ in _my partners_ apartment and yucking it up like you’re old-bosom pals!” he breathed. 

“Now, Stevie, can you just...”

“Can I just _what_ , Bucky?!” he exploded, his arms violently thrusting upwards in his exasperation before they pulled down to drag across his face, his head shaking in disbelief and horror. “Ugh! And to think that I’d convinced myself that I was seeing things in that restaurant that night! That _I_ was being _ridiculous_ to think that two of the world’s most wanted assassins were joining you and Tony, that I _had_ to be seeing things because it was dark and I was mad and you were...”

“ _Stevie_...”

“No Buck! Not this time! You don’t get to keep lying to me” the blonde seethed; “give me one damned good reason why I shouldn’t call Fury and have a SWAT team down here, just one, and maybe, _maybe_ I’ll let you talk me down... but it _better_ be good” he huffed, his feet finally stopping so that they could regard each other.

Sighing, his body slouched within the recliner, the slightly older alpha kept his gaze locked onto the emotionally exhausted police-officer whilst Natasha slowly looked between them from her sprawled position upon the couch, her fourth beer almost drained.

“’Cus I’m askin’ ya not to, alright?”

“What?”

“Ya heard me” Bucky breathed, his tone strengthening; “af’ta all we’ve been through, af’ta all of the shit, blood, n’tears I am askin’ you, as my _best friend_ , **not** ta call Fury an’ to hear us out, okay?”

“Us?” Natasha quipped, her right brow arching whilst keen, analytical azure eyes narrowed onto the alpha her boss and saviour was so madly in love with; “I hope you know what you’re doing” she warned, her shoulders hunching minutely when the blonde slammed his fists onto the breakfast bar with an angry snarl. 

“You’re in a _relationship_ with her?!” he demanded hotly, his right hand pointing at the (now thoroughly nonplussed) femme; “Jesus! Bucky! And here I was thinking that _Stark_ had been bad news with his less than _spotless_ business practises but this? This! What in the world are you thinking?! You...”

“Dat’s not it!” the bandaged male roared, his body up and storming over to the other man before he fully knew what he was doing; “an’ don’t you _fuckin’_ dare say anything bad about Tony, d’you hear me?!” he growled, his hands fisting into the lapels of the slightly shorter alpha’s trench-coat.

“Bucky! Calm down...”

“You stay out of this” Steve warned, his own hands clutching the seething male’s forearms; “fine, I’ll let you go, for now” he said, his gaze momentarily shifting to the femme who was only a step away, her empty bottle held in such a way that it could be weaponised if need be. “But you should know that I _will_ be filling in a report stating that you’ve been seen in Manhattan, so I suggest that you slink back out the way you came in, alright?”

Giving Bucky a nod, Natasha levelled the blonde with a look most men didn’t live to tell about before flipping the bottle up, catching it and gently flinging it into a trash can that none of them could see, its green form gracefully spinning over the blonde’s hair, lightly brushing through a strand or two, before reaching its destination. 

“I’ll be in touch” she said, her tone deliberately neutral so that the still fuming alpha latched onto Tony’s fiancée wouldn’t be sure as to whom she spoke to or what she meant; then, just like that, she was gone.

“You expecting any _more_ company?”

“No” Bucky snipped; “ya gonna let go anytime soon?”

“You gonna run if I do?”

“Hah! Since when would I eva run from a punk like you, huh?” the older alpha challenged, his tone harsh but lacking any real venom. “Now le’go an’ take a seat before I _sit_ you down, alright?” he added, his arms tugging at the other’s coat and (a feeling of relief washing over him) watching when the other stiffened but followed along, regardless.

Now, sat in a position that he and Nat had paralleled only moments ago, Bucky looked into the baby-blue eyes he’d gazed into thousands of times before and found, for the first time, a confusion there; shit, this wasn’t how he’d planned their last talk, this wasn’t _how_ a twenty one year old friendship should end.

“Bucky...”

“Steve?”

“Whatever this is, whatever is _happening_ here... it... it’s not too late” the younger detective breathed, his face stricken with worry. “I can help you, if you let me” he promised, his form edging closer, their knees almost touching. “Buck, you’re not just my friend... your my brother, my brother, you know?” he asked, his voice breaking. “If she’s black-mailing you or threatening Becci and the kids just, just _tell me_ and we can find a way to settle this, _off the books_ alright? I’ll do that for you, I’ll do that I swear... So long as Sam isn’t involved I promise that I can...”

“It’s not like that Stevie” the older sighed, his left hand reaching out to pat the man affectionately upon the knee; “it’s not like that at all...”


	10. A Tangled Web...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Wade Wilson... enough said...
> 
> : 3

_“Sir, I’m sorry to call on the priority-line but... We’ve got a problem...”_

Sighing into his blue-tooth ear-piece, his gloved fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, Nicholas Fury allowed himself a second of mental cursing before replying with: “no fucking kidding...”

_“Sir?”_

“Agent, are you calling to tell me about the _remains_ of Tiberius Stone washing up down State, Doom’s sudden interest in some recently freed up prime real-estate or the rumours concerning Odin’s long lost son being connected with _Stark_?” he ground out, the start of a migraine blossoming in the socket of his ruined eye.

 _“Err... none of the above, sir”_ the Agent (young, three years experience, military background, only signed on to out-do his brother) hesitantly replied; _“a Detective Rogers has called in a sighting of the Black Widow in Manhattan, sir... we’ve tried to get in contact with him but his dispatcher says he’s signed off for the rest of the day. We’ve also tried his home-phone and cell but...”_

“Let me guess, he’s _unavailable_?” SHIELD’s Director grunted; “hn, Rogers... that sounds familiar... did we try to recruit him a while back?”

 _“Yes sir... it seems as though Agent Coulson was assigned to recruit both Detective Rogers who was, at the time, a Navy Seal’s Captain and one of his subordinates ... a mister... ah, James Buchannan Barnes... Hmm, according to their files, both have assisted SHIELD on a handful of cases across the last three years. Hn, one of the notes on Barnes’ file lists Agent Coulson as a contact whilst Rogers’ cites Special Agent Sharon Carter”_ the speaker cited. _“Should I try to call him through one of those contacts, sir?”_

“No” the spy-master grumbled, the rumble of his jeep’s engine growling to life as his driver cleared the underground parking lot and began to prowl its way down the elongated driveway surrounded by the training grounds and non-priority research labs. “Don’t bother... the Widow isn’t currently active which means he’s still breathing, so let’s keep her on the back-burner for now as, thanks to a certain Norwegian dignitary come businessman and a corrupt Doctor-King with diplomatic immunity, I have bigger fish to fry... and speaking of _fishing_ ” he grunted. “Make sure that the clean-up crews are discreet and by the book, understand? All evidence is pointing towards The Kingpin and, if we’re going to put that fat-fuck away this time, then we’re going to need good, _solid_ evidence and our disembowelled former millionaire may just _be_ that evidence” he enthused, a hint of his blood-thirst seeping through his tone.

_“Yes sir, understood... over and out...”_

“Hm” the man (who was getting _too old_ for this shit) voiced into the static, a dispassionate eye observing the tree lined road which helped to conceal their New York State Headquarters, his scowl deepening as the loose-ends dangling before his analytical mind’s eye continued to taunt and allude him. 

Wilson Fisk going after Tiberius Stone was, considering how the mafia in and around Hell’s Kitchen worked, not too surprising in terms of him being targeted, he supposed. However, why now? Why Stone? The _King Pin_ had more prominent enemies to concern himself with and, if what Fury knew about the man was true, aside from a few major dealings in his father’s day, Tiberius was relatively harmless after Stark had cut him down to size and struck off all ties with the millionaire’s _Corporation_.

Humming thoughtfully, his hand pulling a cell-phone free from the inner lining of his trench-coat, his body lulling in time with the right turn the vehicle had just made, Fury began searching his way through the latest news and articles regarding the billionaire omega whose nose had been a little _too_ clean lately.

“Stark Industries to Revolutionise Green Energy... Playboy Tony dazzles at NY Fashion Week... Free Self Defence Classes for Femmes and Omegas to feature in new Stark Plaza... New Maternity Wing built with funds raised by Stark Industries...” he muttered, his teeth gritting. “Well ain’t you just the Son of Man these days, _Carbonell_ ” he huffed, his search for anything involving him and his old _flame_ coming up fruitless. Not that he was too surprised; the heir to one of the most notorious families from the _mother country_ was under constant surveillance in one form or another and, certainly, not even someone with that omega’s resources could keep so many eyes misdirected.

“You’ll come unstuck one of these days _Tony_ ” he breathed through a stretch, his phone re-pocketed; “and when you do, I’ll be there” he added, a smirk touching his lips for the first time that morning. “But if this little game you’re playing helps me to nab Fisk, I’m not going to complain... not just now” he stated before, his body leaning forward to tap on the bullet-proof barrier between himself and the driver; it lowered on impact.

“Jones, change of plans” he called, the jeep effortlessly pulling to the road-side.

“Sir?”

“Get Matt Murdock on the phone and tell him to cancel his plans for the rest of the day” he said, his smirk spreading; “if he complains, just tell him that _all_ of his Christmases might just come at once this year.”

“Should I also contact Mr Borson, sir?”

“No... let the old bastard stew for now... but, if he sends that meat-head son of his to our Central Office again then memo Agents Foster and Lewis giving them **full** permission to tase him all they like” he snorted. “Damned European’s think that just because they fly into our turf with bags of money and damned, _fancy-assed_ accents that they can knock on _my_ door and demand my time? _Please_ ” he huffed.

“Hell, it might do that ancient blow-hard some good to be told ‘ **no** ’ for once in his silver-spoon-mouthed life” he added before his earlier conversation with Agent Teller resurfaced; “oh, and have Coulson check in with Barnes and Rogers... warn him about the Widow sighting and tell him to gather as much intel as he can, just in case” he said, his body leaning back into the backseat with a nod. 

“Yes sir, I’m... ah, there’s another priority call coming in... should I patch it through?”

“Shoot...”

After a pause, the barrier rising:

_“Hey there, Nicky-boy, I hope that this isn’t a _bad_ time?”_

Holding back the groan of frustration that clawed at his throat, the lightly bearded alpha took in a deep, calming breath and allowed the steely composure and experience of his many years wash over him, a mask of indifference locking firmly into place.

“Do I want to know how you got this number?”

_“What? Oh, come now _Nicky_ , what’s a little hacking between friends, hmm?”_

“Wilson, if you’re black-mailing that Parker-kid into doing your dirty work again...”

_“Blackmail?! Why, Petey does everything I ask him out of sheer love and devotion to his Alpha-Papa, don’t ya Petey?”_

( _”Please stop dragging me into your crazy world, Wade, it’s bad enough that he knows that you _know_ me”_ ) a muffled voice in the background squeaked.

_“You see, **love**_ Nicky, love pure and simple...” 

“I’m hanging up...” 

_“ **What?!** No, _no_ , just wait a second you grumpy chocolate-bear, you...”_

( _”Jesus! Wade! What the heck are you saying! That’s _really_ offensive!_ ”) 

_“Offensive? Nah, me and Nicky go way-back, don’t we, _brown-sugar_?”_

Disconnecting the call, that migraine he’d been so valiantly fighting earlier surging back with vengeance, the Director of SHIELD pulled his ear-piece away and crushed it when it began to flash, a flicker of satisfaction bubbling at his core as the plastic pieces fell away to decorate the jeep’s immaculately cleaned floor. 

The barrier lowered: “sir... the in-vehicle computer is..." 

**“Now that wasn’t very nice, Nicky!”** an irritated voice hollered in stereo as all of the speakers buzzed with the reverb; **“luckily for _you_ , my feelings can’t be hurt so easily and I love you, so I’ll forgive you just this once”** Wade continued breezily whilst Fury did his very best to resist pulling his pistol and nailing each speaker with a slug or two. 

“ ** _Although_ me getting to talk and you being stuck _listening_ might not be such a bad idea... Petey! Make a note that me and Shaft’s grumpiest cousin will only talk this way from now on”** he ordered, a crackling of static bursting even as the Director contemplated just emergency rolling out of the jeep and torching the blasted thing. 

**“ **Okay, so where was I before I was so _rudely_ interrupted... oh yeah...** ” the _merc-with-a-mouth_ tittered, his tone deviously pleased.**

“ **Nicky-poo, you’re gonna want to pucker-up and kiss my ass once you hear whom my latest employer is and what, or rather, _who_ he’s paying me to _do_...** ” 


End file.
